


No Vacancy

by Mousewrites



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: BDSM, Consent Issues, Double Penetration, M/M, Mind Control, Other, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2019-10-03 10:58:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17282786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mousewrites/pseuds/Mousewrites
Summary: Watts has been in a lot of minds, but none has had their very own monster, before Eddie Brock.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter of this fic is a piece I wrote long before Venom came out, and the damn thing won't leave me alone. I can't wait to find out what happens when I stuff both Watts and Venom into poor Eddie's head. 
> 
> New chapters as soon as I can get them to you. :)

I look at the technician adjusting the IV drip into my arm. No telling how long I'd be gone, this time; early morning, the mark probably just woke up. If I jumped into him early, then I'd probably have all day before the mark's subconscious woke up enough to push me out. The technician isn't looking at me at all, just puttering around, making notes, checking gages.

I see him check the restraints hanging at the edge of the table before he goes.

Fucker. Probably wanted me to see him check those.

I hate waking up restrained.

Tucker comes in, and I smile at him, trying to be nice. He's fidgeting; this is his first time being jumped, and he's shit-scared, I can tell. New ones always are. He's dressed in a beat up jacket and jeans, his nails painted black and yellow. Nice costume. He's been undercover for weeks, trying to solve this without involving us.

"Um... you've got your information, you sure you're going to be able to ride him? He's pretty tough," he says, looking at my eyebrows instead of my eyes.

"Yup. You sure you'll be able to make contact with the mark?" I say. This is my job, asshole.

His eyes flicker, and he glares at me. "You do your part, I'll do mine. I didn't even want to call you sick fuckers."

I smile again, knowing that it's not a nice smile. "You sure you want to be pissing off a guy that's going to be living in your head for a few hours?"

He goes slightly ashy at that. My smirk widens. "Let's do this thing."

The facilitator comes in (thank god, it's Rebecca), and sets Tucker up. I only half listen to the customary pre-jump speech; I've heard it a thousand times. Tucker gets himself under control, calms down, and I take a deep breath.

Christ I hate jumping new timers. If only I could have my nice comfortable Bosto, but he's off recouping after our last little adventure.

Bright light, and I count down in my head. Jumping itself is fast, but it's painful if I do it too quick.

Painful for me, that is. My mark'll never feel it.

I open my eyes, and Tucker's staring right at me. Our eyes lock, and wham! I'm gone, diving into the soft mass of his personality like I'm delving into snow, burying myself deep and fast, pulling traces of my passage in behind me.

Tucker looks confused when my body doesn't do anything.

"Well, detective? We gonna do this, or what?"

[Already done, Kurt,] I say, 'voice' laced with more sarcasm. Ah, barbed wit; the hallucination’s weapon of choice.

"FUCK!" he says, and knocks the stool over, his ass hitting the ground with a thump.

paintwinge-ass-ow _ (memory/tactile/recent: pulling hard at the sling, legs aching and open) _

[Well, well, well, what was that, Kurt?]

"Quit calling me Kurt," he says, rubbing at his head. Rebecca closes my eyes for me, which I appreciate. Some of the facilitators make the techs do it, and by then I'd have a headache when I jumped home.

[Tell Rebecca thanks, will you?]

"What?"

This guy was an idiot. Great. I hijack his vocal cords for a moment. "Thanks for the eye job, Rebecca. I appreciate it."

She looks up, smiles in a way she wouldn't at some painted-up undercover cop. "No problem, Detective Watts. Have a good jump."

Kurt pulls his speech center away from me. "What the fuck was that?"

[I needed to say something.]

"So? You're my passenger, not the driver, got it?"

[Sure, Kurt. Whatever you say.]

"Call me Detective, damnit!"

I make him wink at Rebecca, and he never notices.

I leave Kurt alone as we head out to the car, settling myself into him a bit better. The mark wasn't even in the city proper; he was out in some shit-hole side city, and it'd take us an hour to get there. Some plainclothes guy was driving, but he wasn't going to talk to poor Kurt. Kurt had his own passenger.

I put up mental walls, making myself a little 'place' inside him. No other jumper could get into this spot I made, not without a lot of work, and Kurt'd never know it was here. I thought of it as a hotel room; I'd never hang family photos here, but I'd certainly use the dresser.

I put my customary stuff up. Secondary walls, and a couple of trigger memories in case it was a very, very bad jump. I was even a good little rule monkey and put up the defense shield for Kurt; if I did go crackers when I was gone, I wouldn't be able to make him off himself when I got back.

That done, I got a bit bored.

[Mind if I poke around in here, Kurt?] I asked.

"Hell yes I do. You stay out of my memories, Watts."

[Too late for that, isn't it? You were warned when you approached us. I can't help seeing memories when they surface.]

"Yeah, but don't go pokin' around. They told us you're not allowed to go past surface thoughts."

[Sure thing.] I create a trigger event, shaping it carefully. [Thing is, Kurt, the human mind has a tendency to think of exactly what you don't want it to. For instance, if I told you to not think of zebras-]

_ (Memory/visual/long-term: Striped horse, standing on vague dusty plain.) _

"Hey!"

[There, ya see? So, for instance, if I was to ask you why your ass hurts right now...]

_ (Memory/full/recent: Abbot standing over him, huge hand slicked with lube. The feel of the sling digging into his back, the clink of the chain. Low thumping music, faint smoke in the air. Eyes on him watching, hands already on cocks. Abbot's low dark chuckle as he forces the first finger in. _

_ "That's it, boy. Open right up for me. Gonna take this whole hand, aren’t you. Such a good boy." _

_ His mouth dropping open, head falling back into waiting hands. Abbot pulling back and going right for three fingers, his other hand stroking up to the bent knee. _

_ "Such a good, good boy. Deep breath,") _

The memory lost clarity then, devolving into painpleasure and a primal throb of submission, the endorphins both sharpening and muddying the memory. I mentally smile.

Yeah, Kurt was going to be  _ fun _ .

He’s is fidgety, hands playing with the seat belt, the window. The driver is glancing at him in the rear view mirror from time to time, clearly worried.

Damnit. Why didn't psych catch this? Kurt had a treasure trove of memories he didn't want me looking at. This was exactly the kind of person that made a bad courier; he wasn't acting normal at all, too afraid I was going to out him.

[Kurt, you have to calm down. The mark'll know something's up for sure if you go in there like this.]

He opens his mouth to respond, then shuts it. He doesn't want to alert the driver.

[Christ, think back to the training, will you? You don't have to talk out loud. Just... think the words.]

{Think them?}

[Yeah, like that.] I give his endorphin center a little brush, and he shivers.

{This is too weird, Watts. What'd you have to go looking around for?}

I am silent for a moment, mentally stretching in the little area, letting him feel me. [Why'd you let me jump if you had all this shit in here? You must have known I'd find it.]

{They told me...} he trails off, crossing his arms over his chest.

[I'm sure they did, but come on. You've heard the stories]

_ (memory/auditory/visual/composite: "You know them jumpers, they'll burrow in and look at everything." "Steal your soul, I swear to god" "Sick fuckers, make you gay, different, make you do shit," "Hear about Rodriguez? Straight as an arrow until that bastard jumped him. Made him leave his wife and went to suck off wrestlers down in Memphis. Can you believe the nerve of those fucks?”) _

brief, bright flash of hope.

[Oh ho, is that it? You want out? You're using me as a convenient excuse?]

{No!} yes

[So, who do you want to out yourself to, Kurt? No traces of a wife in here, no family left who'd care.]

"Quit digging in my mind!"

[Can't do that, my friend. I'm here for a while, and if I don't get you calmed down, we're both going to be little chalk outlines when we get to ghetto-ville or wherever the fuck we're going. Though your outline will be quite a bit bigger than mine.]

He's trembling now, like a junkie who needs a fix.

Fuck. This is going to hell right here.

[Tell the driver to stop.]

{What?}

[Tell him to stop. Tell him you've got to take a piss.] I push again on his endorphins, giving him a bit of positive reinforcement.

He does, and the driver pulls over at a diner. Kurt gets out, goes inside to the bathroom.

His mind is spinning, making and discarding thoughts so fast I can't quite catch them, confused and upset and strangely aroused.

How to deal with this? We've got to reach some kind of accord, or we'll fuck this up. I could just jump home and abort the mission, I suppose, but it smacks of failure, and I hate to fail. So... Kurt, on some level, knew I'd find out his dirty little secrets, the sex, the bondage, the pain. He knew I'd uncover it.

But who did he want me to tell? I poke a bit, accessing random thoughts, and pull them into a semblance of order.

Ah. Well, that made some kind of twisted sense. He wants an excuse. An out. He doesn't want to be outed, he wants me to be his alibi. So, if in the future, he gets caught with his pants down (or a fist up his ass) he could say "It wasn't me! I wasn't like this until I let that creepy fuck in my head!"

Fucker. I hate that. That's one way we get a bad name. Sure, I could make him do whatever I wanted, but he had all this shit here to begin with. Wants to blame his own internal filth on me, does he? What am I, some fucking sacrificial goat?

I almost yell at him, almost rip him to shreds. Anger is surprisingly effective coming from inside your own skull.

Sudden calm rolls though us, and I make myself pull back. I was inside this guy. I knew him, knew him like he didn't know himself. I might as well be him at this point. What good would it do to rip his psyche to bits? And why did we suddenly calm down? 

Kurt is staring at himself in the bathroom mirror, hot water running over one hand. Too hot; the pain is running up and down his arm, and his breath is steady. Endorphins are slowly filling his mind, and I take some in, feeling his pain, touching it and letting it fill me.

Oh yeah.  _ Oh  _ yeah. This is  _ good _ .

I know how to fix this. Kurt felt... Filthy. Filthy for feeling this pleasure. Maybe he was planning on me being his excuse, but instead I'd be his housekeeper.

[Kurt, turn the hot water up.]

{What?} He starts to pull his hand away, but I stop him. Fear shoots through him as he realizes he can't move his hand.

[I said, turn it up. Just a bit. You want more pain, don't you? Turn it up. I'm here.] Reassurance? A threat? He was unsure. I let it hang for a moment. [ If you won't do it, I will.]

_ yes, do it _

The unvoiced thought goes through him before he can stop it, and I know I have him as his heart starts to thud against his chest. He freezes, nipples hardening against the t-shirt, staring into his own eyes in shock, as I curl his lips into an approximation of my favorite smile.

Yes. Kurt wanted somebody else to take responsibility for this, for what he wanted. The ultimate excuse. He wanted me to make it  _ ok _ .

That's as good as permission, in my book. Fuck the rules about not fucking our vessels. He wants it. I know it more than anyone.

Hot damn.

[Listen to me. While I'm in here, I'm in charge, you get that? You'll do what I say and you'll get what you want,] and I jab his pleasure center. He shudders. [You fuck around, and you'll get what you want, too, just not how you want it.]

I slam hard into his pleasure center, pushing it into pain instantly, and his knees try to buckle as he cries out. I stiffen his knees and pull his head up, making him stare into the mirror. His eyes are very wide, wet from pain.

His cock is hard.

"Now," I say to him, using his voice, "You're going to do exactly as I tell you, aren't you, boy?"

He nods at his reflection.

"Good, good boy. Now, turn up that water, and count to ten. Slowly."

I let go of his arms, and his hand trembles as he reaches for the tap. He cranks it, wincing, as the already hot water gets hotter. I pull that hand up, thread it into the hair at the back of his neck, pulling it tight. 

"Count, boy."

"One, two, t-three..." His jaw clenches, as the door to the bathroom rattles. He locked the door, how fortunate of him.

[Finish it.] 

His eyes are wide, flicking to the door and back to the mirror.

"Four, five, six..." Someone thumps on the door, and his voice dies, his throat tight.

I stroke my fingers into his mind, finding where the pain is becoming pleasure, and pushing it higher, sharper. He gasps. His cock jerks in his pants, the head wet and rubbing on cotton. His heartbeat pulses in our throat.

_ [Finish it!] _

"Seven, eight, oh god, nine..."

I use his hand to turn the water hotter, and he lets out a short scream. "Ten, ten, god,  _ please _ " and the pain is fantastic, writhing white hot, and I take it all, twisting it up as his just like his brain wants, and he comes, yanking his scalded hand from the water to press it, soaking and shaking, against his groin.

Mine.  _ Mine.  _ His mind is swimming in endorphins, pleasure, pain, synapses firing all around me. I push hard at him again, making a second, smaller orgasm rock through him, and he crumples to the ground, come dripping from his shorts down his leg, dampening everything. The air stinks of come.

I pet him as he comes down, wrapping his hand in cool wet paper towels, helping him wash up. He's so far down in his brain that he follows my instructions perfectly, humming with contentment. I am, too, satisfied and soothed by our shared chemistry.

Yes, mine now.

Ah damnit, what am I gonna do with another stray?


	2. Chapter 2

We float, soaked in light and tingling, synapses twinkling like distant stars. The overlap between us isn’t close; I didn’t know him, not really, and there was a feeling of longing, even now. Kyle’s peace is beautiful, hypnotic, and all too rare. I could feel it soaking into him, soothing the parched, lonely folds of his brain, and drifted along as long as I felt we could spare it. I even slowed his perception of time, gave him an extra five minutes, let him enjoy what he could. 

It doesn’t take long for Kyle to start to drop; the comedown from the double whammy high of submission and orgasm was considerably less pleasant when you are wearing wet pants in a public bathroom. Normally I’d ride it as long as I could, drunk as my ride on whatever got them going, but we didn’t have time for that, and I didn’t want to lay down on this floor again, even with someone else’s body.

At least whoever had been thumping on the door had fucked off. Kyle coming his brains out had probably been noisier than we should have been.  I check his pocket; at least he brought his phone. I shoot a text to the driver about stomach issues and request our bag, and tell him the mission is FUBAR. 

I send another to my handler and delete the message record.

The driver thumps the bag against the door and double taps to let us know it’s him and then gets the hell out of dodge. Kyle wouldn’t be the first cop that couldn’t stomach having a passenger.

I get the bag, get Kyle changed into something less street-gang-bang, hiding his painted nails behind the thin leather gloves I find in his bag, covering his hair with the hood of the plain hoodie. His body has a physical reaction to the smell of the leather gloves as they warm up, and I pet his cheek with one hand, letting him rest his head against the other.

Hm. He was down pretty far, and I was a little bit worried about my ability to get him to tell me where he lived, once he was up again. I set a compulsion to go home, and to call Abbot tomorrow, in case his subconscious pushed my ass out as soon as he woke up.

I give him another minute, taking a couple of deep breaths to wake him up. We needed some coffee, but first things first.

[Kyle, hon, you back with me?]

I felt him come back, like a computer suddenly booting up. The glow around us pops like a cell full of viruses, blowing outward and leaving emptiness behind. Grainy confusion, slick black loss, sucked at both of us, spikes of shame roaring up from the blackness as memory came back online.

His stomach soured, sweat breaking out on his skin. His heartbeat was going crazy. Black despair welled up around me,  his own shame at his desires roiling the surface of his mind like a sudden storm. Inky black tendrils, tipped with lipsticked mouths of sharp teeth, whispered hatred, licking at the walls I had put up, before latching on and rasping away at them.

I was ready for it, I thought.

A long, low moan swelled up and spilled out of his mouth, and I fell with him, long shards of self-hatred slicing into the place I had made inside of him and punching out again, gaping wounds in my defense that his subconscious took full advantage of. The slick black shame flooded in, knocking me off balance, and I went down, half submerged in his emotions.

[Kyle, hey, man, it’s ok, calm down,] but I wasn’t getting any flicker of conscious thought in him, not now.

I threw patches up as well as I could, Kyle’s despair sucking at me. I could feel bigger tendrils coming, his subconscious focused on forcing me out, a foreign infection. This was a lot more serious than I had thought; he was panicking hard, not just sub-dropping. I frantically modified the instruction I had left, telling him to go to a safe place now, and call Abbot, tell him he was having a crisis.

That done, I pulled myself back, collecting all the bits of myself into a smaller, harder target. Kyle’s subconscious swelled around me, and I rode the wave of it, trying to keep at least a little bit in control. It’d be easier to get back to the Corp if he ejected me outside, and not in this brick and metal truck stop.

Luckily for me, I guess, Kyle had already decided that he didn’t want to be in the bathroom anymore and was heading for the front of the store, head down and hands balled against his sides. His desire to get away from this place rang outward, making even random civilians give him a path.

I tried dumping cortisol, serotonin, broadcasting calm and safety as well as I could, but he was locking me out. My control was slipping, and he was going to vomit me out of his brain any second.

A guy suddenly looms in front of us, and Kyle jerks to the left, slamming into a stack of beer crates. His shoulder screams pain for a moment before his adrenaline and anxiety flashover into a full panic attack.

The guy was asking us if we were ok, and I decided he was as good as anybody else, because I wasn’t sure how hard Kyle was going to throw me, and sometimes retreat is the better part of valor.

... Of course, it wasn’t particularly valorous to invade some poor sap’s brain, just because he stopped to help, but sometimes life was messy. I vowed to do something nice for the guy, maybe get him laid.

Kyle’s subconscious had almost totally enveloped me, leaving me only the hard way of getting out.

I yanked Kyle’s head up and locked eyes with the guy.

“Sorry about this, man,” I said with Kyle’s voice, and the guy had a weird look on his face for a moment, but I didn’t have time to stop, and grabbed his shirt, yanking his face close to Kyle’s.

Kyle’s subconscious vomited me out as soon as I let go of my death grip on his brain. I jumped the inches between his eyes and the new ride’s as softly as I could, but I knew he would feel it; I didn’t have time to be particularly subtle. For the half-second I was Between, I realized, belatedly, that something was about to go Very, Very Wrong.

Between, the guy was a massive, writhing pile of teeth and tentacles and glowing, opalescent eyes, wrapped the bright golden glow of a second personality.

Had I been able to, I would have jumped right back into Kyle. The black sucking mouths of his despair looked positively wholesome compared to _that_.

What the FUCK had I gotten myself into?


	3. Chapter 3

I landed feet first, which surprised the hell out of me.

Not that I landed, but that I had feet. I had already sunk deep enough into this guy that I had manifested my default shape, and a vague empty landscape, crisscrossed with a faint black grid.

There had been no resistance, no personality for me to subdue. I experienced more resistance when I jumped into my own fucking comatose body, let along somebody who had been walking around a truck stop.

It’s like this guy was ... empty. Or had been eaten.

The back of my neck prickled with sudden sweat, which, again, made no _sense_ ,  and I looked around, uneasy.  The ground beneath my feet was faintly spongy, the black lines not quite as straight as I had thought. In fact, they looked like they were... faintly moving? I prodded it with my toe and a little blob of black shot toward me.

I jumped backward and stepped on the line behind me, which sent out tiny black blobs of its own, seeking. I could feel them squirming under my feet, and yelped, realizing that I was completely naked for the first time.

Not naked like, had no clothing on. Naked as in, had no personal skin of my own around me. I was completely unprotected.

I yelped, desperately casting both hands out between me and the crawling black lines, which had started to ripple and ooze toward me, gathering mass as they pooled together.

For just a moment, a bubble of Self formed around me, the tracery of gold hexagons that was my personal metaphor flickering into place.

The black blobs were on it in a second, shooting up and grabbing on, plucking the hexagons apart and writhing in frustration as they blinked out of existence. I tried again, but they were now around me, pulling them down as fast as they could form.  There was a rising grumbling coming from the west, a wave of black oily shadow coming for me.

Panting, I stopped trying to make a shield, instead conjuring a ladder to pull myself up on. The tentacles quested where my feet had been, and three or four came together, twisting to form a large, clawed hand, which swiped just under my toes.

[Holy fuck,] I said, and the whole _world_ shivered,  a ripple of shock and fear sending the tentacles fleeing from my location. The looming mountain of darkness recoiled, and two huge, blind looking white eyes opened in the darkness, as large as moons in the emptiness inside this ... shell....that used to be a human.

The sky split, teeth gnashing, the huge face looking around, somehow not seeing me as I hung from my ladder to nowhere.

Suddenly, a voice like a thousand-pound chain being dragged across rocks boiled up out of the surrounding darkness, coming from everywhere, and nowhere, all at once.

 **{{Eddieeeee,}}** the voice said, the end drawn out to almost a growl, **{{We are not alone in here.}}**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More coming, maybe tonight if I can manage it. But I just couldn't resist posting this bit.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Watts tries to get himself out of Eddie... and runs into a problem.

“What the hell _are_ you?” I said and promptly realized that while it couldn’t see me, apparently its hearing was working just fine. The sky-face focused on me in a second, the darkness ballooning out into a sleek black head, jagged teeth unfurling in the wake of a horrifyingly long pink tongue, which whipped through the air toward me.

I let go a moment before it got to me, dropping along with the flickering remains of the ladder as the thing shredded it. I hit the ground running, though I had no idea where the hell I was going to go. My bare feet made little divots in the dark gray ground as I ran, the surface sliding underneath me, warm and spongy.  I tried to alter my personal gravity, to get the hell off that not-ground, but I felt stuck in my default form.

It didn’t seem to be following me, however. I conjured a floating mirror, angling it so it’d show me the creature without me having to stop running.  

The thing had grown arms, pulling itself out of the darkness of the sky to search out every bit of the ladder, smashing and clawing the chunks into smaller pieces until they blinked out of existence.  I heard its scream of frustration as it ran out of bits, saw it casting around blindly for where I had gone.

I didn’t know where I was going, either. I put my head down and ran,  conjuring my personal shield around me as I went, feeling the hexagons locking into place, covering me from the chaos of whatever the fuck was living in the chewed up husk of the man in the hoodie.

As the shield closed around my head and solidified, it muted the scream of the monster, but it couldn’t mask the sudden rhythmic thudding as it picked up my trail and ran me down. I had a handful of heartbeats to do something, ANYTHING before the gibbering black wave was on me, and I wish I could report I stood my ground and prepared to die with dignity, but the truth is I wasn’t thinking at all. I was running away as fast as I could, and I was about to die like an accountant in a monster movie.

Its tongue got me first, snapping around my waist and jerking me backward in a way that would have torn me in half if we were in meatspace. I gagged as it swirled up my torso and around my neck, leaving long strings of spit. I pushed the skin of my shield out a little as it wrapped me up, but couldn’t my default shape any.  I managed to get myself enough room to move, but it still felt disturbingly being trapped in a huge pill about to be swallowed.

Something between a suction cup and a taste bud plastered itself to the faceplate of my shield, and I felt its frustration when it couldn’t get at my face. I watched in sick fascination as the dinner plate sized cell shivered and divided in half, and half again, each new doubling searching for some way through my defenses.

The rumbling sound of disappointment when it couldn’t find a seam was my only warning, and I reinforced my shield a second before it crushed me like a grape, but it was a close thing. The coils of tongue constricted from my feet up, holding me tight. I didn’t actually need to breathe, but it didn’t know that, so I went limp when it let go.

The tongue slithered off of me, retracting until it held only my head. I stayed still, even when it shook me a little, like a kid with a dead lizard.

I could feel something through the skin of the tongue, a thrumming like a rubber balloon at a party. Did it sound like voices... arguing? But I couldn’t make out what they were saying.  The tongue peeled itself away from my face, and I looked into the huge moon of its eye, inspecting me from inches away.

This close, it was bafflingly large, and it hurt something in my brain to stare right into that swirling, opalescent expanse. I flinched away, unable to play dead when looking at THAT. I expecting it to focus on my face, but it didn’t seem to see me.

Huh, it didn’t seem to see me before, either.  Without moving my shield, I scrunched down as far as I could. I didn’t like the look in that giant eye.

The tongue turned me this way and that for a few seconds, even flipping me upside down and looking at my feet. It could feel my shield, that much was clear. And this close, it seemed to be able to see it, but not through it. At least now that it thought I was dead, it had calmed.

It laid me on its palm, holding me up while running that horrifyingly long pink tongue over its eyes and back around before it retracted, the mouthful of jagged teeth with it. It squinted down at me, a tiny invader in its domain. It rolled me over with one pointed claw, and then drooled a long string of spit down onto me and spun me through it a few times.

“I don’t fucking understand,” the mountain of a monster said. Its voice was deeper than I should have been able to hear, a bass subvocal growl. It tipped its head at me, the eyes going from angry to more confusion.

This thing should have been an inhuman, incomprehensible eldritch THING, and right now it reminded me of a grumpy intern from the Corps. Maybe this was all a misunderstanding, and if I could get the monster to let go, I’d just jump out and find some nice hobo to ride home in.  

The sky murmured a reply, and the monster looked up, one giant eye arching in annoyance. “I told you I was not imagining it, Eddie. And now I caught it. And I killed it.”

The sky complained, rumbling thunder, and the monster wagged its head a little. “Well, it's not running away anymore, that usually means dead.”

It picked me up by my ankles, and I fought the desire to flail. It lifts me again close to its giant eye. I was just about to open my mouth and ask to be put down when I saw the monster spin out a tentacle tipped with a sharp claw.

“But I will make sure.”

Before I could do more than register what it said, the monster shot the claw right through my chest, catching only slightly on the shield on the way out my back.

I jerked, but it didn’t hurt. I looked down at the claw going through my chest, waited for death, waited to dissipate, waited... but nothing happened. I shifted sideways, and the claw slid through my body, leaving it whole.

It couldn’t touch me. It could get anything I conjured, but it couldn’t touch me.

Relief poured through me, making me sag against what was left of my shield.

The monster held me pierced on its claw like a kid with an olive, my shield flickering around it like broken machinery. It made a pleased noise and started to peel my shield away, and I let it, unsure what was going to happen when I didn’t have the shield holding me up. I reached out and stuck a hand through the claw in my chest, and the monster didn’t respond, so I couldn’t touch it, either. Looks like I was going to fall, in a moment here.

Might as well make it interesting then. I smiled for the first time since I jumped out of poor Kyle. If all I had was my voice, I’d make it count.

I waited until the monster had peeled me down halfway, and then conjured a few tiny blinking lights swirling about where my eyes were.  The monster froze, gaze on those tiny, swirling lights. I waited until it brought me even closer to its face, licked my lips, and said,

“ **Boo**!”

The monster imploded, crumpled inward away from me, jagged teeth melting into strands of black ooze that burbled and ran like melting wax. Vacuum prickled at my skin, as even the air pulled away from me.  The darkness squealed as it ran away, a desperate, high pitched whine that ate at the edges of my mind.

My thumbs didn’t actually block the noise, but what the hell, it couldn’t hurt. I was falling, but there wasn’t anyplace to fall _to_ ; the fleeing blob of black was pulling the empty gray place in with it, and the hair on my arms stood up as the world thinned.

“Fuck me,” I said, as the gray light went negative for a blinding second as the darkness turned itself inside out, and the world

**_inverted_ **

I opened eyes I hadn’t realized were closed, and found I was walking down the street, one hand tucked into my jacket, pressed against my ribs. The smell of wet road and cars hit my nose, and I reeled, drunk for a moment on the vivid sense of home and comfort it gave me.

“V, baby, talk to me,” I muttered, under my breath, and blinked, shocked that I had no idea who had said that.

And then, suddenly, I _did._

The who and what of _Edward Charles Allan Brock_ swelled up from our memory, rich and full of scars and bumps along the way. All of it, a great smothering tide of information, hitting me all at once, without any particular way of organizing or making sense of it all. I gagged on the flood, overwhelmed on memories and sensations I couldn’t place. The feeling of someone’s fingers in my hair. The smell of hospital rooms. The cold feeling of unanswered questions at the dinner table, and later, unanswered emails that hurt like knives. A sickening bump and thump that had something to do with a car, and a rolling, sick shame around that memory.

I tried to pull away, break the overlap, but I couldn’t concentrate. I was drowning.

{“Eddie!”} the monster _-_ no, _Venom_ , called out into the maelstrom of information, and his file in Eddie’s brain exploded into mine as soon as I thought his name, making the storm of information not only worse, but _scary,_ with aliens and monsters and things I didn’t even know were possible. The one thing that came through loud and clear is that Venom wasn’t a monster and Eddie was fully on board with him being...  on board.

I moaned, dizzy and disoriented, and had to stop the information somehow. I hit the emergency purge button and unfortunately felt every moment of Eddie’s body vomiting out everything he had eaten in the last year into the gutter.

The flow of memories stopped instantly. Weird thing about humans, we can’t think of anything but throwing up when we are throwing up. Rude to do that to somebody, but I just wanted out of this guy, and his alien counterpart. As soon as he was done throwing up, I’d jump out and leave these two to ... whatever it was they were up to.

Eddie leaned on a telephone pole, his forehead resting on a clump of months old band flyers. He wiped his hand across the back of his mouth and looked at his shaking hands. “I’m ok, V,” Eddie said. “Right? What the hell just happened?”

I could feel Venom moving in our body, swirling around our stomach, sliding through the veins along our arms. Hands formed around our wrists and held tight, and I felt Venom manifesting along our back, under the leather jacket and jeans, wrapping Eddie in a full body if invisible hug.

Eddie relaxed slightly into his grip, and I felt him nuzzle at the hand that slid out of our collar and cupped his cheek. Venom purred at him for a moment, and a feeling of tenderness pulsed between them. I decided that this would be as good a time as any to blow this pop-stand and go home.

It was only as I tried to pull myself out of overlap with Eddie that I realized I had a real problem.

As much as I tugged, Eddie’s body just wouldn’t let me go. Usually, I had to fight to stay inside a conscious person, their subconscious recognizing me as an outsider and slowly gaining strength until it could force me out. Sleeping was even worse, as people’s subconscious were an army of werewolves, waiting for the moon to supercharge them. It was the subconscious that kept me from full overlap, acting like a grumpy chaperone that would prefer I left a little room for Jesus between me and my ride.

But Eddie... Eddie’s body was like a tar baby, easy to touch but hard to pull away. Every time I managed a bit of separation between us, and moved to free another area, the first would slowly sync back up.

Eddie’s soul was full of quicksand, and I had jumped right into it.

I finally gave up, relaxing back into the overlap, keeping just enough of my conscious thoughts separate that I didn’t trigger any memories I wasn’t ready for. Even that took more energy than it should have. Corps training kept me calm, but I was entirely unprepared for this. I would have to wait until Eddie fell asleep, and try again.

All I had to do is lay low until he went to bed. No problemo. Just hide from some kind of black hole of a man and his alien body roommate. Easy. Yeah.  I was feeling distinctly like a third wheel, and suddenly had a lot more sympathy for my first girlfriend’s twin brother.

Of course, eventually, I banged him, too. I didn’t want him to feel left out.

Eddie had started walking again, heading home. It wasn’t far.  Venom was still plastered up against our back, and I could feel little tentacles sliding along our ribs, slowly. They had been talking, but I hadn’t been listening, too intent on getting the hell out of dodge.

“I don’t think that’s possible, V,” Eddie said, looking both ways before he crossed, hopping onto the curb just as a cab roared through the red light, leaning on his horn. Eddie threw him the finger and the guy yelled something as he whipped around a corner.

Venom growled, and pulled Eddie’s arm toward where the cab had gone, feeling like murder and vengeance. Eddie leaned back the way they were heading, and Venom left off, reluctantly.

{“I DO think it is possible, Eddie, because I heard it say _boo_. Ghosts say boo, everybody knows that.”} Venom tugged hopefully toward a little shop, a tiny tentacle pulling on the collar of his shirt. Eddie paused and then shrugged and ducked in.

We raised a hand to Mrs. Chen, who didn’t look up from her crossword as we ambled past her counter, but I could feel her intense scrutiny, even without turning around.  Eddie grabbed a bag of apples, and Venom made a gagging noise.

“You’re going to make us fat,” Eddie said quietly but put the apples back and swapped them for a bag of pizza rolls.

{“Never, Eddie, and I would like you fat anyway,”} Venom rolled though Eddie’s ribs, a tickly caress. {“Chocolate?”}

“Only if I get an apple, too.”

Venom grumbled but left off. Eddie grabbed an apple and a chocolate bar, and I tried to make a mental note of where this little store was because they had a decent set of candy, including a bunch of international stuff. I saw a bag of Korovka, a favorite of mine as a kid, and Eddie reached out and grabbed it.  He blinked at it in his hand but shrugged and dropped it in the little basket.

... I decided to file that away in ‘shit that was too concerning to think about right now’ and worked a little on trying to pull back from the overlap.

Mrs. Chen took our money and squinted a little at us. “Eddie, you look ill. More than normally, I mean.” She flapped her hand at his chest, her voice dropping to a bad whisper, “Is your parasite ok? And since when do you buy Tiny Bull candy?”

Venom bristled, and Eddie put a hand in his jacket pocket, stroking his knuckles against his side where Venom had wrapped almost all the way around his ribs. Calming a spooked horse. “Little Cow, not Tiny Bull, and just heartburn from bad hotdog cart, Mrs. Chen.”

{“What? When did you get a hotdog? I DON’T REMEMBER A HOTDOG, EDDIE.”}

Little warning bells were going off all over my brain, or whatever the fuck I was when I was disembodied. Maybe Eddie spoke Russian? It was possible. I decided not to risk the overload of looking for the answer in his memory.

“Uh huh. Well, you take care of him, hear me? He’s a good boy.” Mrs Chen gave Eddie a hard look, and I felt Eddie’s cheeks flush as he fought off embarrassment and grabbed his bag of food.

The warmth in his face bled through to Venom, who hummed, pleased. {“She likes me,”} Venom said, his ire about the phantom hotdog forgotten under the swirl of pride, the little tentacles all over our back ruffling as they left the store. {“She knows I will protect you.”}

“I think she was talking to me, V,” Eddie said, taking a big bite of the apple.

Venom made a gagging noise at the taste.  {“Yes, I am SURE she meant for your soft human parts that heal like shit to protect me. You are the perfect host, but you are squishy.”}

Tentacles I hadn’t felt form suddenly groped our ass, and Eddie laughed. “Quit it, V, I wanna take a shower, I just threw up, remember?” A passerby gave us a weird look, and Eddie pointed to his ear and shrugged, implying bluetooth, or insanity, I wasn’t sure.

{“Yes, you threw up because you were HAUNTED.”}

Eddie shook his head and laughed under his breath. “It doesn’t work that way, even in the movies. Ghost haunt houses, not bodies.”

Venom fell silent, mulling his words.

We were almost home. The tentacles groping our ass had never actually stopped, despite Eddie’s protest.  As we went up the stairs to his apartment, Eddie paused to throw his apple core at a trash can. A toothy tentacle shot out and snagged the fruit, demolishing it in a few bites and snaking back in. “Nice shot.”

{“Still tastes like feet.”}

“You say that like you don’t eat feet.”

Eddie got the door open and shut tight it behind us, a little zing of anticipation shooting down our spine as the deadbolt locked into place.  He plunked the groceries down, threw the pizza rolls into the freezer and grabbed the chocolate bar, waving it enticingly.

I felt Venom’s attention lock on the bar, the little ripples of him on our skin swaying to follow the tidbit. The black band around our wrist grew a head, a smaller version of the nightmare monster from the gray place. That long pink tongue lolled out, the tip tracking the chocolate bar like a snake.

“OK, here’s the deal, you get this now, and you let me take a shower unmolested.”

“But you like being molested,” Venom said out loud, the voice somehow more disturbing coming from outside of our head. Eddie’s armpits prickled with sweat.

“Yes, true, but I need to take a shower.”

Venom hummed in response, and his tongue snagged the chocolate bar, wrapping around it suggestively, the tip gripping and ripping the wrapper open.  Eddie’s eyes were as locked on the bar as Venom’s, now, as the tongue slowly wrapped around the tip of the bar, and flicked at it, before sliding between the wrapper and the bar.

Venom’s obvious pleasure at the taste of the chocolate and Eddie’s cock thickening in his pants blended, a feedback loop that swept over me like a hot wind. I tried to pull a little more out of the overlap, but... they both felt so delicious. Those warning bells were going off again, but I ignored them. I couldn’t get out until Eddie fell asleep, right? Might as well enjoy the show. I kept pulling parts of myself out of overlap with him, but it was a perpetually losing battle. My sense of self blended with Eddie’s far to easily.

Eddie was heading for the bathroom, shedding clothing as he went. Venom stripped the bar with the same abandon, and they were both naked by the time we stepped in the tub. I noticed a tentacle snag Eddie’s phone out of his pants and was muzzily impressed that it seemed to know how to use it.

A tentacle splattered against the wall, covering the shower control in a blob of black, pulling my attention back to the tub. Eddie sighed, turning to the grinning head licking the last of the chocolate off of his teeth. “Ok, fine, you can control the water, but remember last time? Only so much hot water in the tank-”

Venom was rolling his eyes before Eddie finished, an unsettling sight. “Yes, yes. I remember. Shower.” Another tentacle aimed the wand at Eddie’s face, as the stream came on. Eddie spluttered at the cold start, and laughed, wiping his face and grabbing soap.

The anticipation swirled around us, as warm and slick at the water pooling around our ankles in Eddie’s crap bathtub. Venom was keeping his word, waiting until Eddie was done washing, but there was a promise in the air.  Eddie’s cock hadn’t gone completely soft, and it throbbed against the back of our hand as he washed his stomach.

We both moaned, and a tentacle whipped out and slapped our hand away.

{“No.”}

Our cock went from semi-hard to straining against our stomach in a few thudding heartbeats, as our breathing caught. The warm water became cool as we went hot all over.  “Aw, come on, V, I-”

“I said no,” Venom said from behind us. I tried to turn and look, but I couldn't turn my head. Fuck, I couldn’t move at all. Venom held us frozen,  Eddie whimpered a little, nipples hard against the wash of the shower, cock thumping against our stomach with our racing heartbeat.

I heard Eddie’s phone clatter to the bathroom floor. I could feel Venom building behind us, running down the back of our legs in thick drips, the tub creaking as _something_   heavy pressed up behind us. A cock the size my arm slid down the crack of my ass, hotter than the water, hotter than the rest of Venom, a ridged head smearing something between us.

A black clawed hand slid around our waist and pulled us back hard into the thick cock, and the body behind it.

The overhead light suddenly flicked off, and Eddie closed his eyes for a second, fear shooting through him as the light faded, leaving only the faint stripes from the streetlight outside the little bathroom window to light the shower.

“Oh fuck,” I said, taking over Eddie’s voice for a second, but he didn’t notice, because the same thought was echoing in his head.

“So, I was researching on how to unhaunt a human, and I was annoyed to see you were correct!” A head only slightly larger than mine slides over my shoulder, his eyes glimmering in the faint light, the mouth of jagged teeth as he turned to look at me. “Humans with ghosts in them are not called “ **Haunted**.”

“See, I told you,” Eddie managed to get out, and a clawed black hand wrapped around our jaw, pointed nails digging into our cheek.

“Hushhhhhhh” Venom purred, “Rude Eddie, I wasn’t finished. Don’t you want to know what I found out?”

That massive cock slid down the crack of our ass for what felt like forever, and Eddie finally found enough of his voice to gasp out a “Yes,” as the head shoved between his cheeks to press bluntly against our asshole.

There was no way we could hold the monster cock Venom was preparing to shove into us, and panic started to cut through the thick layer of lust. I tried to twist away, surprised to find myself able to move, held only by Venom’s hand around my throat and the one trapping me against his body. He seemed to enjoy my squirming, taking over and rubbing me over his cock, easily lifting my weight.

“Wriggly Eddie,”  Venom purred, lust and fondness thick in his tone, and Eddie didn’t feel scared like we were going to die, just like we were about to be fucked within an inch of our lives.  Venom’s head pulled back, teeth scraping his back of his neck through the sopping fringe of hair, a promise of violence so old my knees buckled. Venom made a pleased noise and a third clawed hand slid through my hair, holding my head up so he could growl his words directly into the shell of my ear.  The tip of that fat cock was prodding at my asshole, pointier now, slick with whatever Venom put out.

“Humans with ghosts in them are called ‘ **Possessed.’** As in, ‘Owned’, Eddie,” The hand in my hair tightened. “Are you going to tell me you are not _Owned_ , Eddie?”

I’m going to be honest, it’s not often that I really feel helpless. I can do a lot of things with a body I’m riding, and really, they can’t do anything to me but spit me out. But Eddie couldn’t spit me out, and Venom could do whatever he wanted with Eddie’s body. Even if I took over total control from Eddie, there was no way for me to get us out of Venom’s grasp.

My own lust burned as I realized how helpless I was. The moan that dribbled from Eddie’s lips was not only his, and the idea to turn our head and slide our tongue between the claws of that black hand was fantastic, whoever’s it was.

Venom was waiting for our answer, and I couldn’t remember what the correct one was. We painted a few long breaths, the shower still running down our face, and I felt Eddie push his ass suddenly back the cock, making all three of us moan. Eddie licked our lips once, and gasped out “Fucking prove it, then” and Venom’s roar covered the yell that broke out of my mouth as Venom thrust hard into our ass.

I didn’t split in two, though I felt like Venom should have broken me. No pain, just aching fullness, and the whitehot shock every time each thrust hit home.  Eddie’s hand was around his cock, pumping hard despite the lack of lube, and Venom didn’t seem to care, rutting into us hard and fast, using a fourth and then a fifth hand to move us as he wanted. I felt caught between them, Eddie’s pleasure and Venom’s dominate lust too much to process all at once.  

Venom suddenly rolled us hard into the wall of the shower, face smashed against the tile, hands grabbing our wrists and holding them to the wall. More hands pressing our legs up and open, pinned like a frog under the pounding mass of Venom and Eddie’s shared lust.

{“Clever mouthy Eddie,”} Venom said inside our head, and pressed another inch of cock into us, his mouth open, tongue lolling and panting in time with Eddie. {“You are mine, and you know it.”}

Eddie nods as well as he can with his face smashed to the tile. “Yours, V,” he gets out, and I feel Venom’s rhythm start to break. Eddie is tugging desperately to free one hand, grinding his trapped cock against the tile.

I couldn’t tell where the line between any of us was anymore. I could feel how close Venom was to coming, how desperately Eddie wanted to please him, how our balls were pulled tight, ready to come, but waiting for... something.

Sex drunk and stupid with lust, I pulled up what Eddie wanted, and the flood of exactly what Eddie Brock _really_ wanted downloaded into my brain in a great thick dollop.  

I arched, pulling Eddie’s body into a bow, pressing our ass and head back into Venom’s mass, and managed to take another few inches. Venom trembled, the noises falling from his mouth less organized every second.

A tentacle pushed against Eddie’s mouth, and he snapped it shut, even as his hole clenched down on Venom’s endless cock. Venom pressed, but even though he could break every bone in Eddie’s body like a chicken wing, he didn’t force Eddie’s mouth open. Venom’s desire to be inside him was matched by Eddie’s terrified lust to have him there. I waited, breathless, for Venom to take what Eddie clearly wanted, but after ten endless seconds of anticipation, I couldn’t take it anymore. Venom would never notice, he was too far gone.

[“Eddie, open your mouth,”] I said into the lust soaked meat of his brain, and his jaw trembled, [“V won’t hurt you, let him in. Open. Your. Mouth.”]

Our pulse thundered in our ears as Eddie's mouth slid open, and the first triumphant thrust across his tongue made Venom roar out loud as well as in our head, as he came hard.

I could feel Venom coming, but Eddie hung on the edge, eyes wet, stretched and aching and being so good for them both. So good for all of us. Venom’s cock pulsed, and Eddie’s cock pulled up tight against his belly, pulsing in time.

I knew what Eddie needed, I knew what would push him over the edge. Something he wanted desperately, needed it like he needed Venom’s thick cock and his hard voice and promises to never go away. Needed it like _air_ , and Venom didn’t even know he was starving him of it.

[“Come, Eddie,”] I said into the live-wire tension in his brain, [“Good boy.”]

Eddie spasmed, coming hard enough to stripe the wall, his ass clamping down on Venom so hard he throbbed out another, smaller orgasm, and I bounced it to Eddie again, moaning. Venom was coming apart, the hands melting back into black strands, the mass behind us catching our body as we fell backward, cradling us as we all ended up in the tub, Eddie’s ass still half full of cock as we sank up to our neck in thick black liquid. The shower squeaked as Venom turned off the taps.

{“My good Eddie,”} Venom said, sleepily, and the pulse of contentment from Eddie was almost as satisfying as the dopamine we were all high on. As Eddie started to fall asleep, I tried to get ready for whatever fascinating terror his subconscious would use to kick me out, but I couldn’t think straight. Venom was so comfortable, perfectly comfortable, and as Eddie’s eyes slid shut I decided I’d just shut mine too, for just a second...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this chapter grew out of control. Sorry it took so long. :D
> 
> I'd love it if you'd drop me a comment, let me know if this semi-experimental story is working for you.


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